Hunger Pangs
by The Lady Avaritia
Summary: Orochimaru often forgot the most basic things like food and sleep, and it had become Jiraiya's responsibility to check on him and ensure that he wasn't passed out from hunger in his laboratory. Jiraiya and Orochimaru friendship.


**Title: Hunger Pangs**

**Rating: T**  
**Spoilers: G**eneral

**Characters**: Jiraiya; Orochimaru

**Summary: **Orochimaru often forgot the most basic things like food and sleep, and it had become Jiraiya's responsibility to check on him and ensure that he wasn't passed out from hunger in his laboratory. Jiraiya and Orochimaru friendship.

**Disclaimer: **disclaimed

**Author: **_Lady Avaritia_

**This story is dedicated to **_Wammy'sHouseRejct_** for being awesome and giving me the idea. **

It was one of those days in the middle of summer, when even the sun seemed lazy and tired. White puffy clouds were dragging without a hint of enthusiasm over the washed out azure sky, and all citizens of Konoha who didn't have anything important to do were barricaded in their homes, in an attempt to banish the crushing heat.

Even though there was no wind in the still air, which hung like poisonous smog over the village, the smell of death and decay from the battlefields was still tangible, and one could almost taste the flavors of various stages of decay. The select few unfortunate gennin teams who were burdened with the task of returning the dead bodies to the morgue, and the several morgues-in-working, which had been set up due to the sheer amount of dead soldiers, were cursing the Hokage, blessed be his wisdom, and his advisors, blessed be their wisdom as well, to the lowest pits of hell.

The ANBU patrolling the village were sweating profusely under their gear, and small rivulets of sweat came from beneath the cool porcelain masks, which, in the heat of the day had become an unbearable torture device.

The Hokage and his advisors had set camp in the Academy yard, under the shade of a giant tree, while the air conditioning in the Hokage Tower was being fixed. Every single year, since the reign of the First Hokage, once summer came, the air conditioning just died, and nothing could bring it back to life until well into August.

The children, sleepy and feeling as if their young brains were baked in their sculls, were dozing over their Military Strategy textbooks while their teachers, irritable and not any less hot and grumpy, droned about the Will of Fire and great ancestors.

Jiraiya had, for the sake of his sanity in the brain-stoning heat, found refuge in an air-conditioned bar well off the beat track. It was almost entirely empty save for a few suspicious subjects who probably had a WANTED poster, but Jiraiya was too lazy to check. He was slumped over the sticky bar top, nursing a beer whose pleasant lukewarm splashing was supposed to pass for 'yes, sir, ice-cold, yes, only the best quality, yes' and which Orochimaru would have regarded with a raised eyebrow, a sneer and a muttered 'Deer-piss'.

And when thinking of Orochimaru, where was he? He had never taken well to the extreme temperatures of Konoha weather. He passionately hated winter's arctic cold, and detested the murderous heat of summer. Which meant he was probably holed up in his expensive air-conditioned apartment. Lucky bastard. Ever since Orochimaru had developed SS-16 and put it out on the poison market (which thrived on the spoils of war), he had a steady side income aside from all the solo missions he took. The _Scorpion Sting_, as Orochimaru had lovingly dubbed it, was soon to be overshadowed by a brand new development – ED-34, or _Ebony Decay_, which supposedly, once ingested, would make the victim start rotting from the inside out. Jiraiya, if he cared any for poisons, would've bothered to listen to the specifics, but he firmly held the belief that only a coward would poison their enemy instead of facing them in a fair fight. Still, he had to admit that Tsunade and Orochimaru's delve into the art of poisons had, perhaps, saved Konoha a good few thousand losses.

Jiraiya hadn't seen his snake-wielding teammate in over three days. This, for him and Tsunade, was always a cause of worry. Orochimaru's mind, which worked on levels that both his teammates had given up on trying to understand, was often times too preoccupied, and he forgot the most basic of things. Sleeping and eating were beneath him. So, for all their disagreements, Tsunade and Jiraiya had decided unanimously that if neither had seen their teammate for more than two days, they would go and check on him.

However, Tsunade was on a mission in Suna. Jiraiya sighed unhappily, and tossed a few bills on the countertop, feeling that, perhaps, this was the most overpriced mammalian excrements he had ever seen. The short walk towards the apartment building where Orochimaru dwelled proved to be nothing short of torturous, as it included moving in a straight line through the dusty street, and breathing the air, which tasted like low quality cotton. His teammate inhabited a concrete and glass monstrosity, several stories higher than what was usual for Konoha. He owned the entire last floor, and the vast basement of the building, and had turned the latter into a fully equipped laboratory.

Jiraiya nodded to the doorman upon entrance, and descended down the stone steps. He pushed the heavy iron doors, and was assaulted by the welcome cold of the underground and the unpleasant stench of still air, mold, and chemical fumes. Just as expected, Orochimaru was in the main area, studying a guinea pig as it writhed and squealed in agony. His bright golden eyes were fixed intently on the silver stopwatch, held loosely between his long nimble fingers. Jiraiya knew that if he stood in the doorway just waiting to be noticed, he might as well just put up camp there and prepare to wait for a few days. Orochimaru was obsessive when it came to his researches.

With a click the stopwatch snapped shut, and the pale man hummed in what could either be satisfaction or displeasure.

'Ninety eight minutes,' he murmured, his voice sounding like snakes slithering on silk, 'It's still not fast enough.'

Jiraiya coughed. Orochimaru turned around to face him almost immediately. There were violet circles under his sunken honey eyes, and his skin had turned the color of melted candle wax.

He looked as if he was about to say something biting, no doubt a careless remark on Jiraiya's IQ and the IQ of a regular chimpanzee, but before he could get any words out, he lost his balance, and doubled over, hand flying around his middle, and eyes shut tightly. With his free hand he gripped the edge of the table, his breathing suddenly going ragged and pained. Jiraiya didn't waste any time getting to him.

'Maru!' He was immediately at his friend's side. Gently he wrapped his arms around Orochimaru's slender body, and lowered him to the floor.

'Nothing to worry about,' the pale man forced out, 'just hunger pangs.'

'Some pangs. When was the last time you ate?'

Orochimaru frowned, trying to remember.

'Monday… I think?' ha said uncertainly.

'He thinks,' Jiraiya growled angrily, 'Behold, the genius thinks! He can come up with twenty ways to kill you before introducing himself, but oh, when it comes down to survival in domestic conditions! He thinks, I tell you! Do you have any idea which day of the week we are today? It's Thursday! Thursday! I swear I don't know why I even try. I should just leave you here… Do you even make an effort?'

As he grumbled, Jiraiya had managed to help Orochimaru get to his feet, and was supporting him.

'We're going, right now, to Ichiraku's to get some food into you, am I understood? He thinks! I swear…'

Orochimaru's chuckle turned into a groan of pain, and his grip tightened on Jiraiya's arm. The toad sage kept his hands on his friend's thin waist, feeling the protruding hipbones. Orochimaru had always been much more slender compared to him, his body made for speed and agility, instead of raw power like Jiraiya.

They made progress at snail pace on their way to the ramen place, and by the time Jiraiya deposited him on a high barstool, Orochimaru was moving on sheer force of will.

Jiraiya ordered his teammate a portion of the light veggie delight, and looked worriedly as Orochimaru consumed it. Well, consume is too mild a word. He practically inhaled it. One moment, there was the steaming bowl, then Jiraiya blinked, and when he opened his eyes the bowl was empty, and Orochimaru was ordering seconds. Jiraiya had never seem anyone eat this fast. Orochimaru didn't like eating in front of people, and rarely shared mealtimes with his team. When he did, he usually ordered dango and munched on it for the whole time. And now… now there was a small tower of empty dishes growing dangerously tall in front of him.

He was consuming ridiculous amounts of food…

Jiraiya eyes his thin frame. Seriously, where did he store all that? With a please sigh his friend set the last dish on the bar top.

'Right then, Jiraiya,' he said cheerfully with a content smile, 'I think I'll go get some desert.'

He still has place for desert? Jiraiya wondered.

'Would you like to come with me? It's my treat, since you were so kind as to treat me here.'

Now, Jiraiya remembered no such thing, but at the expectant look in the shopkeeper's eyes he reluctantly pulled his wallet out and with almost heart-wrenching agony tore the last vestiges of his last mission pay and handed them to that avaricious vulture, who'd robbed him off of… Well, never mind. At least Orochimaru wasn't doubling over in pain any more.

With a mournful sigh and one last look at hi retreating money Jiraiya slid out of the booth and followed his teammate into the still hot air of the Konoha summer, hoping, as he did so, that whatever Maru had in mind for desert would be sold in a place with air condition. And possibly a cute waitress.


End file.
